A New Dawn Rising (8 page)

Sam arrived shortly after seven to pick Carl up. The spotlights at the front of the house came on as he pulled up, illuminating the driveway. He watched Carl come out and walk briskly down the steps. Sam had questions for him. A lot of questions. Carl got into the passenger seat of the Capri to save time changing cars.

'Right, Sam,' he said promptly. 'We need to get to the factory and back as quickly as possible. I've got some important phone calls to make this evening.'

Sam didn't move a muscle.

'We're not going anywhere,' he said slowly. 'Not until you clear up a few things.'

Carl was fiddling with his seatbelt. 'I haven't got time tonight,' he said, trying to get the strap across his chest. 'What the hell's wrong with this thing?'

Sam leaned across and pulled the strap tight across Carl. With force, he snapped it securely into the buckle. Carl looked at him, slightly alarmed.

'Okay,' he sighed. 'I'll answer your questions, but for God's sake, let's get moving.'

***

'Who were the two men who called at your house earlier?' asked Sam.

'When?' replied Carl.

'While I was waiting for you this morning.'

'This morning?'

Sam let out a deep sigh and gripped the steering wheel tightly.

'Yes, this morning. They turned up in a black beamer a few minutes before you got back with Molly and the girls.'

Carl shook his head, mystified.

'I don't know,' he said. 'What did they look like?'

'Big and ugly. Looked ready to smash a few heads. Your head in particular, if you don't give them what they want.'

Sam glanced over at Carl, gauging his reaction. There wasn't one.

'Couldn't tell you, Sam. I suppose I've upset a few people over the years, but that's business.'

'You're telling me you've upset a few people,' growled Sam. 'What about the lunatics who followed me in the Audi?'

'Now you have lost me-'

'Carl, it's a good job I lost them, or I'd be talking to you through a straw now. There were four of them. They wanted a quiet word with me, if you know what I mean.'

Another shake of the head from Carl. Another blank look.

'How do you know they're anything to do with me?' he asked, sounding offended. 'What did they say?'

'I didn't give them the chance to say anything!' cried Sam. His patience was beginning to run thin. 'Well, what about the stuff I saw online-'

'Online?'

Sam felt like stopping the car and giving Carl a good shake.

'Carl, will you stop repeating everything I bloody say! Just listen and answer the questions. Now, I read a blog about you-'

'I'd have to get the girls to help me out there,' Carl cut in. 'I'm no good at that sort of-'

'Your daughters?' laughed Sam in disbelief. 'You wouldn't want them seeing what's been said about you on-'

'Sam, I get stuff written about me all the time. It comes with the territory.'

Sam brought the car to a standstill at a junction. He glared at his passenger while he waited for a car to go past.

'Christ, Carl!' he exclaimed. 'This isn't your average reporter criticizing you for underselling knickers. This is personal. People are threatening to get you.'

'Who?'

Sam threw his hands up in despair.

'I don't know, do I? They don't exactly identify themselves! But it looks like someone off the Withdean. Who have you upset there?'

Carl thought about it.

'There's a lot of jealous people on the Withdean. People who despise me for getting out and making something of myself.'

'What about Martyn Taylor? Does that name mean anything to you?'

'No, never heard it,' replied Carl, sounding bored now.

Sam rolled his eyes and wondered how anybody could have so many enemies and not know about them. He tried a different tact. A question even Carl might be able to answer.

'Do you know Peter's carted all your prized possessions down to the auction house?'

'Of course I do,' replied Carl with disdain. 'What do you take me for?'

'I'm beginning to wonder,' Sam told him. 'I really am. What are you doing with them?'

Sam sensed Carl flinch. At last, a reaction of sorts.

'Now, Sam,' said Carl, suddenly serious. 'That's not really any of your business.'

'Fair enough. I'll turn the car round and take you back.'

Sam started to turn the steering wheel full circle, intent on heading back the way they had come.

'Okay, okay,' sighed Carl, holding his hands up in submission. 'Have it your way. This is like a flaming police interrogation. Look, after I started getting the threats again over the phone, I decided to store all my valuables. It's not rocket science, Sam. These green nutters threaten me, so I store my stuff for safekeeping and get you in for security, then wait until the whole thing blows over. Happy?'

Sam was far from satisfied.

'Honestly, Carl?' he said. 'No, I'm not. There's a lot of unexplained things going on here, and a lot of people are unhappy with you. It's making my job harder and putting me in the firing line. So, no, I can't say I'm happy.'

They were nearing the factory. For Sam, the journey had passed in a blur. As he slowed the Capri down, Carl gave him a sympathetic look.

'Well, I suppose you have got a point, Sam. Look, I tell you what. Let me nip over to the office and get what I need. Then we can talk some more on the way back. See if I can't figure some of these things out. Okay?'

Sam's head was beginning to throb. He hoped Carl was going to take his concerns more seriously from now on. In the meantime, what could he do?

'Okay,' he replied. 'Go and get what you need. We'll talk again when you get back in the car.'

Carl smiled wryly and patted Sam on the shoulder.

'Good man. Right, I'll be back in five minutes.'

Carl told Sam to park across the entrance and leave the engine running. It wasn't worth getting the barrier up and driving onto the site. He would be in and out in no time. Carl got out of the car, walked round the barrier and headed for the factory's main entrance door. Moments later, Sam made him out through the gloom, rifling through a set of keys before letting himself in to the factory.

Sam stewed while he waited. He had not got one satisfactory answer out of Carl this evening, apart from to confirm Peter's story. And even that didn't add up. Carl still hadn't told him exactly what had been said during that final phone call yesterday. The one that had freaked him out so much. Why had it upset him more than any other he had received?

Sam's head was pounding now. He eased it back onto the headrest and shut his eyes. There was more he wanted to ask Carl, but it was proving such hard work. Sam rubbed his temples and tried to relax. He began to feel drowsy, the warmth from the car heater lulling him into a reluctant sleep. The banging in his head began to recede...

He awoke with a start. The luminous clock on the dashboard told him he had dozed off for twenty minutes. He yawned and looked around the car. No sign of Carl. Sam wondered what was taking him so long. He looked over at the factory. A light flickered in a small window in the roof. Sam blinked and rubbed his eyes, then looked again. The light was getting brighter, a harsh orange glow set against the black silhouette of the factory. It resembled a lighthouse beacon, shining out through the darkness. Sam got out of the car to take a closer look. As he reached the barrier, the glass in the window suddenly exploded out, crashing into pieces onto the ground below. Sam instinctively put his arms up to shield his face. Fortunately, nothing struck him. He was too far away. He looked back up towards the roof and saw flames where the window pane had been. Huge flames, crackling and spitting in rage, licking greedily around the frame of the window. A thick plume of dark grey smoke began to escape, billowing out of the window and rising high into the night sky.

For a split second, Sam stood rooted to the spot, mesmerised by the ferocity of the fire. Then he thought of Carl.

'Carl!'

Sam sprinted towards the factory, yelling at the top of his voice.

'Carl!'

Twenty yards from the entrance door, he felt shards of glass under his feet. Flecks of blackened ash swirled around his head. Pieces of burning cloth fell from the sky. Sam could hear the fire roaring above him. He could feel the intensity of its heat.

Then he saw someone run out of a side door.

'Hey!'

The shadowy figure didn't stop. Didn't even look round in response to Sam's shout. Instead, the person sprinted off around the back of the factory. Sam went to give chase but decided there was no point. Although he wasn't able to recognise the fleeing figure in the dark, he was sure it wasn't Carl. In fact, he was certain. Carl had a much bigger build and definitely wasn't capable of running that fast. Sam's heart sank. If he was right, then Carl must still be inside the factory.

With burning embers raining down all around him, Sam rushed to the main door and grabbed the handle. He pulled his hand away in pain. The handle was red hot. He bunched the sleeve of his jacket over his hand and tried again.

The door was locked.

A flame suddenly shot out through the gap between door and frame, forcing Sam to jump back to avoid being scorched. On either side of the door, more jets of fire fizzed out through cracks in the wall. Something collapsed with a tremendous din just inside the door. Horrified, Sam realised the fire wasn't just confined to the roof.

The whole factory was alight.

Sam ran up and down the front of the factory desperately searching for a window. He couldn't see one. He couldn't find a single point of access. Nowhere he could gain entry through. Then he remembered the side door, the exit he had seen someone escaping from moments earlier. Running around to it, he heard a terrific groaning noise from above. He stopped and looked up. The entire roof was on fire, and a large section had worked loose directly above him. It was sliding off, about to crash to the ground at any moment. Right onto the spot where he was standing. Sam got moving again. He dived around the corner just as the roof thundered into the ground, causing everything around him to vibrate dramatically. The walls, the ground, the very landscape he was part of, it all shook violently. The noise was deafening. An almighty roar assaulting his ear drums. Moments later, an enormous cloud of ash, dust and roof fragments rushed past him at tremendous speed.

Sam brushed away the sweat dripping into his eyes and spat out tiny bits of ash. He could hear explosions and crashes from within the factory, the fire mercilessly destroying everything in there. He knew he didn't have long. It was getting too hot to be this close. The waves of heat emanating from the walls were getting too powerful. The factory could collapse at any minute.

He gave the side door a powerful kick. It didn't open, but Sam did feel it buckle slightly. Encouraged, he kicked at it again and again, ignoring the heat burning into the soles of his shoes. With each blow, the door's hinges loosened that bit more. Just one more good kick, he kept telling himself. Then he could get in and search for Carl. Finally, the door caved in and crashed to the floor, kicking up a cloud of dust. Coughing and spluttering, Sam turned away for a moment and cleared his throat. As soon as he got his breath back, he turned back to the doorway.

What he saw in front of him was hell on earth.

The inside of the factory was a sea of fire. Wall to wall flames. A raging inferno like nothing he had seen before. An overwhelming stench of fuel hit his nostrils. He noticed the burning floor was awash with oily puddles.

Sam knew there was no way through. It would be suicide to try.

Frantically, he reached into his pocket and fumbled for his phone. It fell to the floor. Cursing out loud, he bent down to pick it up. As he did so, he noticed something by his feet. A small photo, just beginning to singe around the edges. Sam took a closer look. A woman with dark, curly hair smiled back at him from the picture. Then the photo rapidly caught fire and her face was gone, shrivelled up in a blackened mess.

Retrieving his phone, Sam heard a whistling sound start up inside the factory. A high-pitched noise getting louder and louder. Alarmed, he slowly backed away. The shrill noise pierced through the angry roar of the fire until it became an ear-splitting din. Sam realised something was going to blow.

Even as he turned to run, Sam felt himself being lifted off the ground. An enormous blast of air picked him up and sent him flying through the night sky. He landed on the concrete and groaned.

Then he blacked out.

***

Somebody had his hands. He was being dragged backwards along the ground. The person pulling him suddenly stopped and let go. Sam could hear heavy breathing. Then, his hands were being grabbed again, and he was being hauled along once more. Sam tried to look over his head but didn't have the energy. The world went dark again.

***

Sam was having a strange dream. One he had never had before.

He could hear the sound of distant sirens. He could smell burning. Hear the roar of a fire. Feel its oppressive heat. He felt a flutter on his cheek. Something touched him lightly on the mouth.

This was no dream.

He opened his eyes and found he was looking up at the stars. The sky was lit up by an orange glow. Wispy strands of grey floated past.

It was snowing. Sam was confused. The snowflakes were dark.

He opened his mouth and let a flake drop inside. It tasted burnt. He spat it out in disgust. That wasn't snow. It was ash.

Ash.

Smoke.

Fire.

He was lying on his back, spread-eagled on a grassy bank. It all came back to him. The fire in the factory. The blast. He must have been knocked out. Defying his aching body, he rolled over and forced himself into a sitting position.

In front of him was the biggest bonfire he had ever seen.

The entire factory was ablaze. Flames towered high into the sky, spewing out endless clouds of black smoke. The factory roof had caved in entirely. The building's outer walls had collapsed in places. Through the gaps, Sam could see the fire raging unabated inside the factory. Explosions were going off regularly in the fire, propelling red-hot objects outwards. The floor around Sam was littered with smouldering chunks of metal and machinery. A thin layer of ash covered the ground. The heat was unbelievable. A strong smell of fuel lingered in the air. There was a huge hole in the wall where the side door had been. Where he had been standing not so long ago.

Sam had a vague recollection of somebody dragging him away and leaving him here on the grass, out of range of the falling debris and flying fragments. Sam shuddered. If he had been left where he had fallen, he would be lying under a pile of rubble now.

Trapped under the rubble.

Carl.

Trapped in that fire.

Sam felt sick. If Carl had still been inside when the fire took hold, he would have stood no chance. Perhaps he had escaped through the loading bays at the rear. It was a long shot, but it was all Sam had to cling onto for now.

The wail of fire engines got louder. Sam remembered his car. He had left it across the entrance. Gingerly, he got to his feet and started walking, keeping as much distance between himself and the burning building as possible. The fire had lost none of its intensity. Sam watched in morbid awe as another section of factory collapsed and plunged to the ground. He found it a hideous, extraordinary experience, watching such a vast structure burn to the ground right before his eyes. He thought of Carl again.

Sam could see the barrier just yards away and his car parked beyond it. The emergency services sounded close now. He told himself they were too late. The fire was beyond containment. The factory was lost. Sam just hoped Carl had found some way out.

He drew level with the barrier and banged his fist down on it in fury. Anger consumed him. Frustration at not being able to do more. He walked around the Capri, yanked the door open and looked down the road. A number of fire engines were racing towards him. He had to get the car out of the way to make room for the multitude of vehicles that would be turning up.

He picked out a small lay-by on the other side of the road and steered the car towards it. He would park the car there, go back to the entrance and tell the fire service exactly what had happened. Or what he had seen, at least.

Before he had a chance to manoeuvre the car across the road, a police car appeared at speed from the other direction. It screeched to a halt in front of him, blocking him from going anywhere. He watched as more police cars pulled up. The road was suddenly awash with flashing blue lights. Sam turned his engine off and looked in the mirror. Fire engines were turning into the entrance and thundering down towards the factory. He wished them luck.

He got out of the car. Several grim-faced policemen were walking towards him.

Sam was aware of what was coming.

He knew how this must look.